


We'll stay quiet underneath shooting stars

by styleztomlinson



Series: The moon above you and the streets below [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:45:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/styleztomlinson/pseuds/styleztomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For all that Harry hoped that the bottle would land on Louis, he doesn’t know how to react now that it did. He always wants to kiss Louis, has to bite his lip to stop himself from being too obvious nearly all of the time. The fact that he is this close to actually getting to kiss him now sends butterflies flying around in his stomach, hope blossoming in his chest despite the fact that he should probably know better."</p><p>The spin the bottle scene in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1189101">The stars above you and the streets below</a>, from Harry's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll stay quiet underneath shooting stars

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: wow. I am completely blown away by the response for The stars above you and and the streets below. I was really nervous about posting, and I never would have anticipated a reaction like this. Thank you to everyone who read, commented and left kudos. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> As for this, I got an anon on Tumblr asking me if I could write the spin the bottle scene from Harry's point of view. This is the end result. The title is from Firefly by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> As always, this wouldn't have been complete without these four lovely ladies: my beta, [MC](http://hale-stilinski.tumblr.com), and [Jesse](http://lostallofmyinnocence.tumblr.com), [Maria](http://louehtumlnsun.tumblr.com) and [Sami](http://williamhorton.tumblr.com)

Niall’s party is just like you would expect a party of his to be; loud, fun and with more than enough alcohol to go around. Harry is not _drunk_ , per say. He’s more intoxicated than he has been the last few times he’s been drunk, but he doesn’t feel out of control. There’s a pleasant buzz in his system, loosening up his senses and making everything just a little bit hazy.

He takes a long gulp of his beer as he watches Louis on the other side of the room, smiling when he catches his gaze and his eyes instantly light up, the smile that’s playing on the corners of his lips the one that’s just for Harry. Harry returns the smile, ignoring the painful ache in his chest.

He’s known that he’s in love with Louis for the past two years. At first, he’d thought that it was just an ordinary crush: Louis was his best mate and the person he spent most time with, so it was only logical for him to develop a crush on him, right? He’d put all his faith in it fizzling out as time went on, but it was the opposite that happened. Looking back now, he thinks that he was infatuated with Louis long before he even understood it himself. He realized that he was in love with him some time before he came out to him, and even now, it still feels like it’s something that doesn’t go away, the feeling only intensifies day after day.

Being in love with your best friend, quite frankly, sucks, Harry thinks. Romantic comedies have nothing on reality. There had been no _Love, Actually_ moment where Louis knocked on his door and proclaimed his love for him with handwritten notes. Although, Harry thinks with a frown painting his expression, he wouldn’t have wanted that. It may be his favorite movie, but Juliet did rush out on the street to kiss Mark goodbye, and Harry didn’t have any intention of saying goodbye to Louis any time soon. He felt more like Julianne at the end of _My Best Friend’s Wedding_ , when she sits at the reception of her best friend’s wedding and watches him dance with his wife. He’s not wearing a lavender dress like Julianne, but. Semantics. He knows he could pull it off.

Last New Year’s Eve hadn’t consisted of a _When Harry Met Sally_ moment, either. Louis hadn’t come rushing to him and said that he loved that he gets cold when it’s 21°C out (he doesn’t; Louis calls him a human furnace, preferring a good cuddle for warmth rather than an extra blanket) or said something ridiculous like how he loves how Harry never serves fajitas to him that are anything less than perfect. There hadn’t even been a kiss at midnight; Harry had maybe expected it, or at least _hoped_ somewhere deep down inside that Louis would kiss him. In the end, Louis had pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek and wrapped his arms around his waist and held him in an embrace that lasted longer than any of the kisses of the couples around them. 

He’s still thinking about this as Louis comes up to stand beside him, wrapping a protective arm around his waist. Harry flushes when he feels Louis’ thumb brush against the bare skin underneath his sweater, tightens the hold of his fingers around the neck of his beer, and smiles up at him. 

“Hiiii,” he drawls. “’m Harry.”

Louis laughs. “Love, how many of those have you had?” he asks, gesturing to his beer.

Harry ignores him. “ _You’d_ be Harry, though. ‘d be Sally.” 

“So you managed to get your name changed while I was over there on the other side of the room for a few minutes, Sally Styles?”

“Lou.” 

“Haz. Go easy on the beer, yeah?” he says quietly, squeezing his hip. “Think of the pain you’ll cause your pretty little head in the morning.”

“Lou,” he says, using his free hand to point a finger to his chest. “You threw up in my rubbish bin the last time you were drunk. You’re obviously not the best judge here.”

“I thought we agreed to forget that ever happened?”

“Gemma took a picture, I think. ‘s too late.”

Louis’ eyes widens as he hisses, “ _Blackmail_.” 

Harry smirks. “Babe, I have so much more than that on you.”

“We are changing the topic of this conversation right now. And,” Louis continues, “You’re not the only one with a blackmail folder, love.” 

Harry laughs before putting his beer down on the bench next to him, taking Louis’ free hand in his own.

“Dance with me, Lou.”

Louis smiles, squeezing his hand before he leads the both of them to a mostly empty area of the floor.

“Always.”

\--

He’s not even sure who it is that suggested spin the bottle. All he knows is that he’s sitting in a circle on the floor of Niall’s basement, Louis on the other side across from him. He watches as Niall searches around for an empty bottle, and when he finds none, he gulps a mostly full bottle of beer down in record time before placing the now empty bottle in the middle of the circle.

“It’s called taking one for the team, lads,” Niall shrugs.

Louis and Zayn laugh loudly at that.

“Sure thing, Nialler. Whatever you say,” Louis says, smirking.

Zayn spins the bottle first, and ends up snogging Niall. Harry and Louis both smirk as the kiss goes on for much longer than necessary. Their eyes lock just as Niall pulls away from the kiss and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his sweater. Harry isn’t even sure what it is that is so funny, but they both break out into fits of giggles, earning them a “fucking _twats_ ” muttered from Zayn.

As the game continues, it occurs somewhere in the back of Harry’s mind that Niall ends up snogging more or less everyone in the circle. Harry says a silent, albeit selfish, prayer for Niall’s bottle not to end up on Louis. He remembers all too clearly the pang in his chest when he had seen him making out with another guy before he even knew about Louis being gay. It had been as if the world stopped, if only for a mere second. He’d felt short of breath, as if someone, or something, was having a chokehold on him. The feeling of being unable to breathe had soon been replaced by him feeling like a complete idiot, realizing that Louis had struggled to come to terms with who he was and the first thing Harry had done when he found out was to get mad and snap at him. It’s still not something he’s proud of. He’s apologized countless of times, and Louis just smiles and tells him that it’s fine every time, that what matters is that he’s by his side. Without fail, Harry will smile at that every single time and murmur _Always_ , knowing that there’s no place else that he’d rather be.

He smiles softly at Louis, watching as he plays with his fingers in his lap. Even if he’d be prepared this time around, should the bottle land on Louis, watching Louis kiss someone who wasn’t him was not something he was interested in tonight. Or ever.

“Oi. Best party ever, or what do you say, lads?”

Harry watches as Louis bursts out laughing, smiling softly at him. Louis focuses his gaze on him, and Harry mouths a _hi_ at him. Louis’ smile grows wider as he mouths back a _hey, you_. Harry can’t stop the smile that spreads across his features, his dimple appearing in his left cheek.

Harry’s too busy watching Louis to even notice that some guy he doesn’t know lands the bottle on him. Harry shrugs; he’s not particularly interested in kissing anyone that’s not Louis, but he doesn’t say no. He joined in on the game, after all. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry notices Louis’ eyes on him as the guy leans across the circle and presses their lips together. 

It’s an okay kiss, Harry supposes. There are no sparks in the room, or butterflies in his stomach, but it could be worse.

“Are we quite finished, lads?” he hears Louis asks, his voice strangely odd.

When the guy sits back in his own seat in the circle, Harry watches Louis curiously, furrowing his eyebrows. Louis simply shrugs at him. Harry feels like something is off, but he can’t put his finger on just what it might be.

Harry looks away from Louis as it is his turn to spin the bottle. He grabs it with an unsure hand, sending it spinning around in a small circle. He hopes, despite his better judgment, that the bottle lands on Louis. He knows it’d break him to kiss Louis and pretend like it doesn’t mean anything, but he’s also hopeful. He knows Louis can be painfully oblivious to what’s right in front of him sometimes. Maybe, if the bottle were to land on Louis, he’d start seeing Harry in a different light after kissing him. Harry knows it’s a cliché thought, but he’d rather cling to a bit of hope than to give up and resign himself completely to the thought that it’ll never happen.

Harry holds his breath, and oddly enough notices Louis doing the same.

The bottle slows down before coming to a stop, the neck of it pointing across the circle, at-

Louis.

Oh.

“Oh,” Louis says, clearing his throat. 

For all that Harry hoped that the bottle would land on Louis, he doesn’t know how to react now that it did. He always wants to kiss Louis, has to bite his lip to stop himself from being too obvious nearly all of the time. The fact that he is this close to actually getting to kiss him now sends butterflies flying around in his stomach, hope blossoming in his chest despite the fact that he should probably know better.

But, he doesn’t, and he lets the hope settle in his chest, smiles even as the butterflies in his stomach multiply. He catches Louis staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry doesn’t stop smiling as Louis watches him. Harry is pretty sure that his feelings for him would be visible from the other side of town, in the way he watches him with so much fondness in his features.

Harry slowly starts closing the distance between them; crawls across the floor and settles on his knees in front of Louis once he reaches him.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi, love,” Louis says quietly, only loud enough for him to hear.

Harry doesn’t let himself think about the possible outcome; doesn’t let himself think about having to pretend that it was just a kiss. There’s a tiny part of the back of his mind that reminds him of the possibility that Louis will find it all weird and start shying away from him, but Harry pushes it away. He and Louis are more tactile than any of their friends, he doesn’t think that that would all change because of a kiss between friends.

Right. A kiss between friends, that’s all this might be in the end.

Harry watches as Louis slowly inches closer to him, sitting himself up on his knees. His eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, only tearing his gaze away when he notices Louis raising his hands. He feels his eyes flutter when Louis cups his face between his hands, brushing the pad of his thumbs under his eyes and across his cheeks. Harry lets his own hands travel upwards slowly, softly wrapping them around Louis’ wrists. Harry watches Louis with the smile that he only reserves for him as he leans in closer and closer, until there is barely an inch of distance between them.

Harry softly caresses the skin on Louis’ wrists with his thumbs as Louis leans in to close the final distance between them. He closes his eyes, inching himself just a little bit closer.

He wants to think that he’s prepared for the kiss, but nothing prepares him for the feeling of Louis’ soft lips pressing a lingering kiss against his cheek.

“Oh,” he says softly, not even aware of it escaping his lips as he goes rigid against Louis. 

He lets his fingers slip away from Louis’ wrist as he feels the hurt and betrayal settling in his chest, replacing the hope that previously resided there. Backing away slowly, he sits down in the circle once more. Around them, the room has gone completely silent.

He feels so bloody _stupid_ , is the thing. He feels stupid, hurt, betrayed and so many other conflicting emotions that he never thought that he would feel around Louis. Most of all, his heart just _aches_ , aches with the knowledge that he is always going to be in love with someone who doesn’t see him the same way, with someone who will never want him back. 

With his best friend, who knows him better than he knows himself. With Louis, who couldn’t even kiss him during a game of _spin the bottle_ because he doesn’t see Harry that way, and he never will.

He doesn’t look at Louis as he hunches in himself, letting his shoulders drop. He knows that Louis can see the hurt written all over his features, but he can’t find it in him to school them into something that resembles his usual self. He looks down at the floor, and focuses on trying to breathe without feeling like he’s suffocating.

\-- 

Niall ends the game not long after that, and Harry scrambles up off the floor in seconds. He knows Louis will follow him, but he needs to get away from it all, he needs some fresh air to stop himself from feeling like he can’t breathe. He heads upstairs and steps out on the front porch, focusing on nothing for a few minutes but breathing in and out. He leans against the wall, closing his eyes. After not even five minutes, he can hear Louis coming out to join him. He clenches his jaw, his lips pressing into a thin line. He tells himself that he can do this, that he can act like he doesn’t care, but he knows that it’s in vain. He snaps his eyes open, watches as Louis all but flinches away at what he finds in them.

“Haz,” Louis says quietly. Harry can hear the desperation in his voice.

“Don’t,” he says coldly, scared that his voice might break. “Please don’t.” 

“Can we talk?” Louis pleads, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “I need to explain myself, I can’t stand-“

Harry starts walking away, his voice cold as he begins to speak. “What is there to explain? I’m going home. If you want to talk, you can talk on the way.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Louis being frozen to the spot for a few moments, before he shakes his head and follows him. He walks briskly until he catches up with him, lining up their steps so they’re side by side. Their shoulders are close enough to touch, and yet Harry feels as if there is an ocean of distance between them.

“Harry.”

“I don’t understand you,” he snaps. “I don’t understand how you can make out with random guys like that time I saw you with whatever his name was,” he says, his heart clenching miserably in his chest at the memory. He can feel tears behind his eyelids, and he blinks to keep them at bay. He can’t cry now. “And yet the thought of kissing me is so repelling to you.”

“That’s not what it was about.”

“Then explain it to me, Louis. What was it about?” he asks coolly. He tries to search for another logical explanation to it all, but he fails, his mind coming up blank.

Louis pauses before he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m not going to be your drunken mistake, Harry.”

When those words escape past Louis’ lips, Harry abruptly stops walking. He feels frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He watches the movement of Louis’ back before he turns around to face him, his feet shuffling on the ground.

“Who,” Harry asks, focusing all of his willpower on his voice not breaking, “said anything about it being a _mistake_?”

He wants to cry. Not only could Louis not even kiss him during a _game_ , he thinks it would have been a mistake. Harry isn’t sure how much more his heart can take, the pain in his chest already unbearable.

Louis looks up at him. Harry knows that every single thing he’s feeling right now – hurt, betrayal, anger, pain, sadness – is visible on his features. He’s always been easy to read, and Louis always joked about Harry being his favourite book.

He swallows audibly, blinking a few times.

“You’re drunk, and the only reason that the bottle ended up on me is because it’s a game, Harry. It wasn’t you who chose it, you didn’t choose for the guy to land the bottle on you, nor did you choose it to end up on me when it was your turn. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”

“That is _bullshit_ ,” he snaps. “I know you only see me as the little brother you never had, but it was _spin the bottle_ , Louis.”

He clenches his hands into fists as he says the words, praying to whatever higher power there is that his voice doesn’t break and that he won’t give himself away. He’s thought about countless of ways to tell Louis that he’s in love with him, but it won’t happen like this. After tonight, Harry isn’t sure that it’s ever going to happen.

“I’m not going to have this argument with you while you’re drunk.”

“Oh that’s rich, coming from you who was the one who wanted to explain it all in the first place!” he cries out, throwing his arms out at his sides. “You know what? Fuck you, Louis.”

He stares at Louis, watches as he visibly flinches. Harry knows without the shadow of a doubt what he’s thinking; that Harry has never aimed those couple of words so viciously at him, nor with the ice cold glare he is sure that Louis finds in his eyes.

“Harry. You’re my best friend,” Louis swallows before he continues, “I didn’t want to be your drunken mistake, something that you’ll regret in the morning.

“Y’know, for a moment, I thought maybe…” he begins, trailing off when he realizes what he’s about to say. He can’t handle more right now. He barely feels like he’s able to keep himself standing upright as it is. “But obviously not.” 

“What?” Louis asks, the confusion evident in his voice and in his features. Harry watches as his hand clenches at his side.

“Nothing.”

“Harry,” Louis says, his voice pleading. “I did it because you mean too much for me to mess it up like this.”

Harry stares at him, trying to make sense of his words. His head feels like it’s spinning, a combination of Louis’ words and the beers and the few drinks he had earlier.

“I’m going home,” is what he settles on saying, finally, not having enough fight in him to argue with Louis anymore.

“Haz-“

“Don’t. Lou, don’t,” he pleads.

His voice nearly breaks at the nickname, and he wonders briefly how they are ever going to get through this, if they have created a tear so deep and irreparable that they are never going to be able to go back to what they once were.

He walks away from Louis slowly. A part of him wants Louis to run after him, to grab him by the arm and plead for him to stay and for them to work this out right here and now.

He doesn’t, and Harry keeps walking even as his heart breaks in his chest.

\-- 

When he comes home, Zayn is sitting on the stairs up to his house, fiddling with his phone in his hands.

“Zayn?” Harry asks, confusion evident in his voice.

“Hi, babes.”

“What are you doing here?” The words aren’t even out of his mouth before he realizes.

Louis. Of course.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

“Stop,” Harry says, putting one hand up. “I know L- he sent you,” he continues, not even able to say Louis’ name right now for fear of breaking apart completely. “I’m fine, okay? You should go home, Zayn. Or go back to the party.”

“No. Look- He just wanted me to make sure you got home okay, alright? And that’s what I’m here to do. I’ll leave as soon I know you’re okay.”

Harry doesn’t know if he will ever be okay again.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

Harry just nods, not trusting his voice to hold if he were to speak. Zayn keeps a steady hand on his arm as they quietly pad up the stairs to Harry’s room. He grabs an old t-shirt that he knows originally belonged to Louis, and strips down to his underwear before putting it on, all the while Zayn averts his gaze. 

He tries to keep calm even as he feels Louis’ scent surrounding him. It might have been a bad decision to put the t-shirt on, but he knows that he needs this. He needs to feel close to him, even if they’ve never been further apart and even if Harry lost his best friend for good tonight. 

He blinks back tears in his eyes as Zayn turns his head to look at him. He knows he’s not fooling anyone, though, because Zayn is at his side in an instant, wrapping him up in a gentle hug.

“Babes,” he says quietly, “It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” Harry sniffles as he feels a tear making its way down his cheek.

“I know that to Louis, you are the single most important thing in his life. And I know that you feel the same way about him. You two are going to work it out, sooner or later,” he hesitates before continuing to speak, “even if it might take some time.”

“I already miss him,” Harry says, his voice breaking.

“He misses you too.”

“It’s stupid,” he says. “He’s never going to- It’ll never- I know I fucked up but he’s my _best friend_ , I can’t…” he trails off, unsure of how to voice his thoughts. He doesn’t want to give away too much, either. It feels like a betrayal, of some sorts.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You have Aspirin in your bathroom, yeah?”

Harry nods. “There’s a clean glass on the counter, use that.”

“I’ll go get it. Then at least your head won’t feel like it’s exploding tomorrow morning.”

Harry gives him a weak smile as he heads into the bathroom.  He looks out of his window for a long moment, the pain in his chest feeling like it grows when he stares at the conjoined roofs. He wonders if they’ll ever sit there again, if Louis will even want to see him again after everything that’s happened. He knows he wouldn’t be able to see Louis right now, but he also knows without the shadow of a doubt that he needs him in his life. He needs him now, even, when he’s partly the reason why his heart is breaking in his chest.

He _misses_ him. He misses him so much that it hurts. He can’t imagine his life without Louis. Harry has always thought that Louis is like the sun. He is bright and bubbling, bursting with so much love and care for the people that he holds close to him. No matter what, Louis has always been able to make him feel better. He has that ability, Harry thinks. He goes out of his way to make sure the people he cares for are okay, whether it’s making jokes until he gets Zayn to laugh after having a bad day or if it’s just being around his sisters when they’re feeling down. It’s only one of the reasons why Harry has always loved him.

With a sob, he realizes that the one person he wants to talk to about all of this is also the only one that he _can’t_ talk to about it. He wants to see Louis smiling at him again, hear him laughing at something he’s said, wants to be reminded of the sun that he knows Louis is instead of being reminded of his expression as Harry had walked away from him earlier. He wants Louis’ arms wrapped tightly around him, wants to wrap his own arms around his back, longs for his fingers running through his hair and his soothing words whispered in his ear. He may be in love with him, but he has always been his best friend first and foremost, and it’s that that he misses more than anything.

He crawls into bed slowly, letting out another sob as he feels Louis’ smell even on his sheets. Louis is everywhere around him, and yet he is _nowhere_ , anymore.

Zayn comes back with a glass of water and a couple of Aspirin in his hand. Harry accepts them gratefully, swallowing them down with a few gulps of water. Zayn notices the tears on his face even as he tries to wipe them away with his hand, and he places a gentle hand on his arm.

“Text me if there’s anything, yeah?” Zayn asks.

“I’m not going to force you to choose sides, Zayn.”

“This is not about choosing sides, Harry. You’re both our mates, I’m not going to side with you or with him. Neither will Liam or Niall. We’re here for the both of you.”

“Can you- Can I ask something of you?”

“Anything.” 

“Can you make sure that Louis is okay?” he asks quietly, his voice almost breaking at the mention of his name.

“Of course. Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?”

Harry looks at him, knows that there’s no point in lying when it’s written so obviously on his face.

“No. I think I just want to sleep though, if that’s alright?”

“Sure thing, babes. Call or text tomorrow when you don’t feel like the walking dead?”

Harry tries to give him a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, alright.”

Zayn leans down for a brief, one-armed hug before he heads out of his room, padding down the stairs. Harry hears the front door closing quietly downstairs.

Harry pulls the covers up over his body. He doesn’t let himself think about how he purposefully stays on the left side of the bed and avoids the right one; the one whose emptiness makes Harry’s chest ache more than it already does. With a loud sigh, he closes his eyes and wills for sleep to come.

It doesn’t.

On his bedside table, his phone vibrates and lights up with a text from Zayn. He opens it, squinting somewhat at the bright screen in the otherwise completely dark room.

From: Zayn  
 _he’s home_

He worries his lower lip between his teeth before typing out a quick reply.

To: Zayn  
 _is he okay?_

Zayn’s reply comes after what seems like forever, but what in reality is probably only a few minutes.

From: Zayn  
 _ur both pretty much in the same state right now i’d say_

Oh.

To: Zayn  
 _oh. thanks, zayn, for everything_

From: Zayn  
 _don’t mention it_

Harry thinks about texting Louis, maybe a simple _goodnight_ or an _i’m sorry_. As he stares at the screen, he realizes that he doesn’t even know what he would say to him. He’s the one person that he wants to talk to more than anything about this, the only one he both can and cannot talk to about it, and he doesn’t even know where he would start.

He doesn’t text him.

He puts his phone back on his bedside table and glances towards the window. He lets his fingers drag along the _one and only_ and the _please_ he’s written on the front of his notebook, thinks about what it means and wonders if he will ever get the chance to tell Louis about it. Biting his lower lip, he turns around on his side of the bed so he’s facing the wall, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. Staring at Louis’ side of the bed, letting his fingertips drag across the empty space, he wonders if Louis has gotten into bed by now; if he’s maybe thinking about him right now.

He closes his eyes to fight back the tears, his heart aching to the point of being unbearable as he realizes, not for the first time tonight, that he’s lost the most important person in his life, who he’d always relied on and who knows him like the back of his own hand, knows him better than he knows himself. The one that he wanted and thought would be by his side through everything, the one person that he needs more than anyone, or anything, else.

His best friend.

 _His_ Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Anon, I hope that I didn't disappoint you. Comments, feedback and kudos, if you liked it, brighten my day and mean a lot to me. I'm [styleztomlinson](http://styleztomlinson.tumblr.com) on tumblr too, in case you want to come say hi.


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